Bonfire's Hold 'Em

Sweat beads form on my brow as I anxiously survey the cards in my hand, my heart pounding. Sitting at the dimly lit table, the only light Bonfire's flaming fingers that lightly caress the cards under his palms, I find myself entangled in a high-stakes poker game against four formidable opponents: Frozen, Woody, Cigar, and Clumsy.

The stakes are high, and tensions are even higher. We are gambling for guard duty. Every chip, really a scrap of wood with an initial burned in, is an hour that one is meant to stand watch, and we all start with fifty, the rough number for the next week. Clumsy came up with the idea of allowing one to trade watches with these. I'm up for it, as I just want to have some fun.

But this game won't be easy. Each of my opponents wears a poker face rivaling any gunslinger's, their eyes darting across the table, calculating every move. They've all played much more than me, a simple novice. But I have a secret. I can see their hands with Insight.

And, of course, it's allowed. The only rule in a game on Bonfire's table is don't get caught. I highly doubt they can figure out how I'm cheating, either.

And Bonfire, the fiery dealer, flicks the cards with an air of mystery, his eyes gleaming with anticipation as the cards lick a harmless flame onto the table. The smoky haze from Cigar's fingers envelops the room, creating an atmosphere thick with tension as the man tries to make it difficult to gauge his countenance. I take a deep breath, attempting to steady my hands, as I meet the gaze of my adversaries.

Frozen, his eyes as cold as ice, studies his cards with unwavering concentration. His stoic demeanor is similar to how he fights, cold and detached. Woody, the seasoned player with a weathered face etched with experience, leans back in his chair, a wry smile curling upon his lips. His quick wit and strategic mind keep me on my toes, ever watchful for his cunning moves.

Cigar, a man of few words, puffs on his smoldering cigar, releasing wisps of smoke that dance between us. His confident aura betrays a hidden fire within, a fiery spirit that fuels his every play. And then there's Clumsy, a seemingly unassuming character whose bumbling facade belies surprising skill. His clumsy demeanor is a deceptive veil, catching opponents off guard and leaving them vulnerable. I'm looking out for him the most; who knows what he can manage with his Ether. Plus, he's naturally lucky, according to Woody.

With each hand dealt, the tension mounts. Wagers rise, chips clink, and the fate of each card held in our hands hangs in the balance. It's a delicate dance of skill, luck, and bluffing, where fortunes are won and lost within the blink of an eye.

I play my hand cautiously, my mind racing to decipher the subtle cues and hints concealed within the table's dynamics. I can only use one Insight at a time, and it takes several moments to switch, so I have to be careful of whose cards I'm peering at unless I want to waste huge amounts of Ether to force the switch. The stakes grow higher with every round as the pot swells with promises of victory and the threat of defeat. The game's ebb and flow keeps me on edge, my senses heightened, my focus razor-sharp.

But lady luck seems to favor my opponents tonight. Time and again, my best-laid plans crumble before their superior hands, even with my ability to see their cards. I find myself caught in a web of near misses, where victory slips through my fingers like sand. I fold whenever Insight shows me I will lose the hand, but Cigar sometimes counters this by stopping me from seeing his face, the requirement for the skill unless I'm willing to use incredible amounts of Ether to push through it. I don't even think he knows it works like that.

My chips flow to Cigar throughout the morning, but he's not the only one being sneaky.

Frozen, the icy manipulator, attempts to use small mirrors of ice cleverly hidden on his fingertips to catch glimpses of my cards. With a flick of his hand, he tries to deflect the light and gain an unfair advantage. But I, ever vigilant, catch his deceitful glimmer and refuse to be swayed by his frosty ploy. I try to call it out, to get him seen by Bonfire, but the bastard is too snappy and escapes without fail.

Meanwhile, Cigar, the master of smoke and shadows, exhales long streams of hazy smoke, filling the room with a dense fog. The smokescreen billows around me, obscuring my vision and clouding my judgment. I squint and cough, but I refuse to let the swirling mist distract me from the game at hand. But the fog makes Insight cost more Ether, making the hand where I use it fewer and further between. It is just a game. After all, I can't become comatose to win.

Woody, the trickster extraordinaire, produces an astonishing feat. He conjures cards that defy all reason, displaying ranks and suits that should never exist in a standard deck. Aces of every suit, jokers that laugh mockingly, sometimes even going beyond four of the same card on the table at once. It's a bewildering display, but I primarily rely on intuition to navigate this maze of illusion. Yet, from Insight, I know it is not an illusion. The bastard is forming small cards of wood to deceive us with. Bonfire lets it slide, though, as he didn't see it happen. I now see he is quite lax about watching for cheaters. As long as it's not blatant, he ignores it.

And then there's Clumsy, the epitome of sheer luck, even without a Gambler Sigil. Damn, I should have brought Earl! With every clumsy stumble and bumbling gesture, Clumsy manages to land on the right cards at the perfect moment. I can't even cheat against him as he won't even glance at his cards half the time, preferring to play, in his words 'raw'. It's as if the heavens conspire in his favor, making him the embodiment of serendipity, the Devil leaning his indelible balance for the man. I watch in awe and disbelief as he rides the wave of fortune, his grin widening with each improbable victory. Insight does nothing to help me here, for chips fade no matter what, as he always boasts the best hand when he goes for it.

Amidst the chaos of their schemes, I stay focused, my gaze unwavering, determined not to let their trickery undermine my skills. I adjust my strategy, relying on my instincts, ingenuity, and a little madness, allowing me to copy all their feats. With each card I play, I tread cautiously, calculating the odds of Ether saturation and reading the subtle cues, undeterred by the illusionary antics surrounding me.

The battle reaches its climax, the stakes higher than ever, as we all realize the time for a final hand is coming, and we've all agreed to either go all in or fold to end the night. No halfsies. One card is placed on the table to start as we are dealt ours, a Bonfire special. The lonely paper is an ace of clubs, staring at me directly.

Then, peeking at my cards, I force my face into a grimace despite what lies. A pocket ace of spades and another eight of clubs. Not bad, but not perfect. A pair. Could be worse. I might want to fold here. Let's see what Frozen has.

Insight twists my vision momentarily as I see his hand, a seven and a nine. Decent. Could get a flush if the three put down are good. Frozen's mirrors of deceit are twisted as I invoke Madness using Woody's thoughts, creating fake cards to cover my real one with, his attempts to cheat thwarted as it is hard to tell the difference through an icy mirror. I fake it, so he thinks I have a two and a three, a dead hand. He'll more likely than not go for it with his hand as he can only cheat to look at mine. Meaning, I'll get his chips!

A second later, just before Bonfire looks to see who wants to continue, Cigar's smokescreen is seen through as I Daydream moving the fog, the uncatchable cheat moving his smoke just enough for me to see his cards with Insight and know that I don't have to fold. A four and a six. Yeah, he's gonna fold.

And he does when Bonfire gives the offer, leaving Frozen, Woody, Clusmy, and me. Cigar backs out with thirty chips remaining, losing only about a night of guard duty. Better that than any more. I'm staying in, for I already know I'm likely to beat two of them.

But before we all reveal our hands for the final all-in, my worry only exists for Woody and Clusmy, the faux cards of the former and Devilish luck of the latter beyond my talents. But hope remains, for this last hand will likely be scrutinized like never before. Previously, Woody was careful not to throw out anything too crazy that was fake, or he'd be called out, but he's more likely than not even further restricted. Because if he pulls out pocket aces right now, he will get called out for it. But at the same time, I can't predict what he will do with Insight as he covers his cards constantly from view.

As the final hand unfolds, I maneuver through Woody's deceptions with calculated precision. I don't think he'll cheat for this one, for even Bonfire will be strict on a final hand. I think he just has decent cards. But are they good enough? I look at him, and he smiles back, a creeping grin that ends at his ear.

But as the next card is revealed, I catch a subtle sigh from Woody, Bonfire leaking another eight, this one of spades.

Another eight! I got a two-pair! It must be bad for him! Three down!

Bonfire then looks us over and offers one more fold, the last one. Otherwise, as per his fabricated rule, you have to go all in. With a sigh, Woody takes it while Frozen gazes at me with a barely hidden smile.

Frozen and I stay in immediately, with Clusmy thinking a moment before agreeing. He usually decides instantly, the wealthiest player with almost sixty chips at the moment.

Bonfire nods as he calmly flicks forward the last card, landing face down. Then, as the tension rises, he snaps his fingers, a small plume of fire illuminating the wagon as it flips the card over to reveal an eight of diamonds.

Yes!

A three-of-a-kind and a two! A full house!

I won!

I laugh as I look over to Frozen, motioning for my right to his twenty chips, and he sighs as he starts to shift them over. But a clearing of the throat by Bonfire grabs my attention.

"Mhm!"

"What?"

Bonfire grins as he lights a spotlight onto Clusmy sitting in his corner, two cards placed in front of him. Two pocket aces. The best full house possible, counting the two eights and ace drawn in the middle.

No way... What are the chances he has the last two aces?

I want to argue, but I can't. Luck has spoken, and tonight they favor Clumsy. With a heavy heart, I push my remaining chips to the center of the table, acknowledging his not-so-hard-earned victory. Though I lost, I had fun. It has been a good break from the dismal atmosphere of my mind lately, even if it means I have more guard duty later.

I rise from my seat as the wagon fills with applause and raucous laughter.

"How!? You're insane, Clumsy!"

"You have got to be cheating!"

"Aww, man..."

"Yeah! Suck it! Hahaha!"

Bonfire chuckles as he stands from the table as well, shuffling outside the moving wagon with me to hang on the side. I pause from moving to the wagon I sleep in, even though I want to take advantage of the wagons while we have them. Soon, we will have to abandon them as Sinscreak is unkind to vehicles like these. But Bonfire makes whatever he has to say quick.

"I couldn't see you cheat, but I know you did. Good job."

I nod, thanking him for the compliment, as that is what it is. But the man continues, rolling up his sleeve to reveal scarred flesh. He's been wearing a long overcoat lately and pants that enter his boots, the fabrics covering every portion of his skin. Only his head stays uncovered, the flames somehow not making it that far. Maybe it's because his Ether's core is in his head? He was a starting Scholar, I believe, and they have their cores in their brains, like me.

"Heath did his best, but some things remain. He told me to never use that skill again, that it would kill me."

Bonfire pauses a moment, the man beneath the fire, Emmet Knox, sparking.

"But we both know I can't do that. Fire... it is me, y'know? As you are unwilling to pass by a straggler, I cannot ignore fire. I don't know why, but I've always been like this. Even as a rat on the streets, scrounging for scraps of food, I was constantly taunted by the flickering candles and bonfires. I got beat up so many times just for wanting to be around a barrel with flames in the winter when there was no more room. We are who we are."

Another lull ensues as Bonfire stares at me, flames rolling across the only unburnt portion of his body, his face. He raises a hand and places it on my shoulder, the raucous laughter inside breaking through the silence.

"I stay alongside Johnny as it's the right thing to do, and so do my boys. We've been together since those streets long ago. But I've always been overlooked, underrepresented, and forgotten. Ignored by the Hunters, forced to strike it out on my own with them as we were too poor. Pushed aside by larger squads due to our inexperience. Bullied for our weaknesses."

I listen, still not understanding where he is going with this. But I don't interrupt or stop him. Bonfire has never been this serious in his whole life. I don't know if it's because he almost died or because of the drinking he's been doing tonight. Hell, it might even just be that I played with them.

"But here, we were welcomed. Few ever strike at me directly, 'fraid for my fire, but many attack my boys. And I just wanted to let you know you're one of us now. No one ever wants to play games with us or do stupid things to pass the time. Most are too busy with other things and look down on us. But you don't. You're always welcome to join the fun, Wyatt."

Smiling, I accept the hug he offers at the end of his speech, careful not to hurt him with his numerous burns.

"Will do. See you later!"

Then, I wave as I hop off the wagon and move toward mine that I share with Johnny, Virgil, and Abraham. I haven't slept in a while and could really use it.

However, the sun is already up, and the morning is close to shifting to noon. But that's fine unless Clumsy has guard duty and wants to turn in my chips. Hope that's not the case, though.

Pumping my legs, I make my way through the deepening mud to Johnny's wagon, the bulkiest of them all. Reaching up, I swing myself inside and find Abraham reading a book inside. Virgil is nowhere to be seen, and neither is Johnny.

Stepping tiredly to my sleeping bag, I speak to the man inside the wagon.

"Abraham, where did they go?"

The pale man shrugs, pointing eastward through the wagon's wood.

"To check something out. Virgil found a pack of Rougarou or something. I'm waiting to see if they need help. You going to sleep?"

I nod, wrapping the sleeping bag around me as I curl up on the wagon's floor.

"Yeah. Best to get shut-eye before the wagons can't go any further. Woody can only repair them so much before they just won't roll anymore."

Abraham chuckles softly with a slight grin.

"Good for you."

Without asking what he means by that enigmatic reply, I close my eyes and drift to sleep, the call of a river of darkness waving me over.

And my eyes nearly instantly reopen to the fields of red lilies, with Lily smiling toward me, her head on her hands as I sit before her.

"Hi!"

Waving back, I return the greeting. The little girl, more deadly than anyone I've ever met, beams wildly while sitting still.

"Hi. You doing okay?"

She bobs her head up and down, her hair going alongside her skull, but she turns the focus onto me.

"What about you? You've been down lately; I can sense it. Is there something wrong?"

Seeing the little girl ask me if I'm alright makes me feel strange for a moment before I realize she's one of the main things making me feel this way. Lily is the only one who can bridge that gap, but the sacrifice is great for every shot and means relying on something other than myself.

Eleanor warned about that many times in her book. Speaking of, that is the book Abraham was reading, Enclosed Fists. I try to reply without pointing blame at her.

"I just... feel weak, like nothing I can do will matter. The ones we have to face... the Prime... Eli Weiss... the Mother Below... they are simply too strong."

Lily crouches down and leverages her arms down to wrap them around my arm as she practically ignores my concerns.

"You'll be fine! Come see this! It'll make you feel better! It always cheers me up!"

Shaking my head, I follow the pull of her arms as they invoke unexpected power, dragging me across and into the endless field of lilies that shake without wind.